Page 12 of Devil's Tulip

Heart hammering, asshole clenching, I pick up my pace, no longer caring about stealth.

He speeds up too, matching my stride.

Shit. Shit. Shit.

A whimper crawls up my throat as I break into a run. His footsteps follow, a staccato rhythm that matches my hammering pulse. Fuckfuckfuckfuck.

Who is it? An armed robber? Some other criminal? This place isn’t exactly nirvana.

Or has Uncle Aldo's man finally caught up to me?

My feet pound the asphalt, sending jolts up my thighs and sweat down my back. I grit my teeth, powering through the discomfort, slipping my fingers under my backpack strap to shift it to my chest. As I do, I risk another look behind me—and nearly choke on my scream.

He has gained so much ground, he’s literally on my heels now.

I push harder, unzipping my backpack just as the turn to the bus station shows up in the distance. Please, let me make it.Please, please.

Fingers trembling, I rummage through my backpack as I run, never breaking stride.Where is it? Where the fuck is it?There! I close my hand around the cool metal canister of my pepper spray. My only weapon.

But because I’m so intent on getting the damn canister out, I don’t see the broken chunk of pavement jutting up from the sidewalk. My foot catches, and I go sprawling, a grunt tearing from my throat as I hit the ground hard.

No no no no—fuck please no.

Frantic, I twist onto my back, scrabbling to aim the pepper spray, to get back on my feet, to do any-fucking-thing. But he’s already on top of me.

A hand clamps around my throat, and I scream bloody murder, my finger mashing down on the trigger. A spurt of liquid fire bursts into his face, and he roars, flinging me away from him and sending my only means of protection clattering into the dark.

“No!” I lunge for where I think it fell, but he’s faster. So much faster. He grabs a fistful of my shirt and buries his other hand in my hair, forcing me up and slamming me face-first into the rough brick of the building we’re grappling beside.

A sob escapes as my cheek scrapes against the gritty surface, tears springing to my eyes when my attacker grinds my faceharder into the wall. I buck and writhe, desperate to break his hold but it’s useless. He's so much bigger and stronger than me.

The man adjusts his stance, digging his fingers into my necklace, holding it together with the scruff of my shirt. He yanks harder than necessary, causing the gold chain to bite into my throat, choking me.

“You little piece of shit, you think you’re so smart, huh? Leading me on a merry-go-round for the past few weeks. But I’ve got you now.”

My heart thuds frantically against the wall, chills filling my being at the sinister tone.He’s been following me for weeks?I glance around the empty street as much as I can, but there’s no one. No one else crazy enough to be walking out here at 4 AM. I’m all alone. Trapped.

Shit. I’m well and truly fucked.

But even though I’m trapped with no help in sight, I'm not going down without taking pieces of this bastard with me, damn it. I slam my head back into his chin with everything I’ve got, losing my breath as the necklace digs even deeper into my throat, cutting off my air for a terrifying moment.

He curses and shoves my head back into the wall. “Enough!”

“Who the hell are you?” I gasp out, though I already know. Still, I need to hear it. Need to know how close to death I really am. “And what the hell do you want?”

“Aldo asked me to get you, Gigi.” His voice drips with sick glee as he uses my uncle’s nickname for me. “Do you remember him? You’ve been a bad girl, running away from your beloved uncle.”

My stomach flutters frantically, and I gag, bile building up at the back of my throat as my worst fear is confirmed. Yes, I do remember my uncle, and there’s no fucking way I’m going back to him.

I’d rather die right here on this street where nobody knows my real name.

As If punctuating my morbid thoughts, lightning slices the sky like God’s own judgment, the sudden bright light blinding me for a moment. An angry rumble of thunder follows immediately, so close it rattles my teeth.

Then a chilly gust of wind, sharp with the scent of rain I’ve learned to detect, rushes down the street, sending our clothes rustling.

“Damn dreary, rainy city,” the man mutters, just as another, louder rumble shakes the air. Then the sky opens up, unleashing a torrential downpour. He growls in frustration and takes half a step back.

It’s all the opening I need.

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